


Let Me Tell You 'Bout My Best Friend

by youlooksodivine



Category: That '70s Show
Genre: Apologies, Bisexual Eric Forman, Coming Out, Episode: s01e11 Eric's Buddy, First Kiss, Gay Buddy Morgan, High School, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Missing Scene, Period-Typical Homophobia, Point Place, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23504944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youlooksodivine/pseuds/youlooksodivine
Summary: Eric learns a shocking secret about his new friend Buddy (and an even more shocking secret about himself).
Relationships: Eric Forman/Buddy Morgan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 163





	Let Me Tell You 'Bout My Best Friend

A red sports car pulled into the driveway of the Forman house, turning on the automatic outside light.

Without saying a word, seventeen-year-old Eric Forman stepped out of the car and made a beeline for his house, only to be stopped when he heard the car window roll down. Buddy Morgan, his friend, or so he thought, called out to him. "Look, man, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry."

Eric swallowed thickly. He turned around with his hands shoved awkwardly into the pockets of his jeans. "You don't have anything to be sorry about."

"Yeah, I do," Buddy said. He stepped out of the car. There was sincere regret on his face.

Eric tried to think of something - _anything_ \- to say. Nothing came to mind. It was Buddy who broke the heavy silence. "I'm sorry, man. I misread things. If it makes you feel better, we don't have to hang out anymore. We don't even have to be lab partners. I understand." He glanced hopefully at Eric, who kept his gaze fixed at his feet. Buddy sighed. "See you tomorrow, man." 

Eric, who could not bring himself to look anywhere other than his feet, listened to Buddy climb back into his car, pull out of the driveway, and drive down the street. Eric let out a strangled breath. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to _scream_. He jogged to the end of the driveway and looked down the street. He barely caught Buddy's headlights fade as the car turned a corner and disappeared. 

Red was right. He really was a dumbass. Cursing under his breath, Eric went inside. 

* * * 

Eric sat at the backmost table of The Hub with nothing but a soda to keep him company.

It was strange being somewhere on his own, as he was always accompanied by Donna, Hyde, Kelso, Fez, or hell, even Jackie. However, he would not be alone for long. He nervously tapped his foot against the ground. Every few seconds, he glanced at the door, or listened for the rumble of a familiar sports car outside. 

Suddenly, the bell above the door chimed as Buddy walked inside. 

Eric shot to his feet, knocking over his soda.

"Hey, man," Buddy said, approaching Eric with a smile.

"Hey - look - Buddy, I wanna make it up to you. I was totally out of hand last night."

"Eric, come on -"

"I'm serious. I shouldn't have pushed you away like that," Eric said firmly.

Buddy's smile widened. He opened his mouth but said nothing. He noticed the other patrons of The Hub were shooting them odd glances. In an effort not to attract unwanted attention, he laughed nervously and gestured towards the door. "Maybe we can talk about this somewhere else?"

"How about my place?" Eric suggested. Together, they fled The Hub. The soda remained spilt on the table.

* * * 

Eric had been serious when he said he wanted to apologize. He felt bad for how he treated Buddy, and he wanted to make it up to him . . . but, somehow, the moment they stepped into Eric's basement, knowing the Foremans were upstairs playing drunk charades with Bob and Midge, Eric found himself on the couch with Buddy, their eyes glazed red and the basement filled with pungent smoke. 

They ate a dozen popsicles each. Before long, their lips were stained bright purple and sticky juice dripped down their fingers. They talked and laughed about whatever came to mind. In the distance, Happy Days played on the television and Led Zeppelin blared on the record player. However, the distant sounds of Fonzie lecturing Richie Cunningham and Robert Plant screaming about rock-and-roll became white noise. Eric listened to Buddy slurping on his popsicle as if it was the most interesting thing he had ever heard.

It was not the kiss that had startled him. It was not Buddy at all. 

It was the small part of Eric that had wanted to kiss him back.

"Buddy?" He said softly.

"Yeah?" Buddy replied, sucking the last remnants of juice off his popsicle stick.

"How did you know you were . . ."

"Gay?" Buddy finished.

"Yeah." Eric cleared his throat. "That."

Eric knew that if he had not smoked half a joint, he would not be asking such bold questions. He could already imagine Red storming downstairs. If he caught them smoking marijuana, he would be furious. If he caught them talking about dudes kissing dudes, he would be homicidal. He looked at Buddy, who seemed unfazed by the question. He tossed the popsicle stick aside.

"I dunno, man. I guess I always knew."

"Right. How - how does that work, exactly?"

Buddy laughed. "You know how everyone always debates Ginger or Mary Ann? Well, for me, it was more . . . Spock or Captain Kirk."

Eric choked on his own spit. Buddy darted to his side and put a hand on his shoulder, his face ridden with concern. "God, are you okay?"

Eric shook his head, turning pink with embarrassment. He could feel Buddy watching him closely. "No, man. You didn't do anything wrong. I was just wondering because . . . I guess I didn't know until . . . you know . . . you kissed me."

Buddy was taken aback.

"I mean," Eric added hastily, "I didn't - I'm not - I _love_ Donna! I always have! But - oh, God - I don't _know_ -!" He leaned his head against the back of the couch. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the marijuana coursing through his body. At once, his frustration was forgotten. He savoured the tingling that travelled down his arms, hands, and fingers. 

And then Eric realized, through his clouded mind, that it was not the marijuana at all.

It was Buddy.

Eric opened his eyes and saw Buddy holding his hand. He did not pull away.

Without thinking, Eric closed the space between them on the couch. He grasped Buddy and kissed him, slowly at first, and when he felt him kissing back, he grew more confident. It was a sensation unlike anything Eric had ever experienced. Whenever he kissed Donna, her lips were soft and tasted of chapstick. Buddy was different. He was courser, rougher, and he tasted of marijuana and popsicles. Eric was suddenly aware that he was a boy, and Buddy was a boy, and they were kissing. The thought turned him on. 

Eric wanted more.

He clumsily climbed on top of Buddy, kissing him harder still. He felt the softness of his tongue in his mouth. He felt his arousal through his jeans. 

"Eric! Honey, are you downstairs?"

Eric clambered off Buddy at the sound of his mother's voice. Buddy, who was pushed against the arm of the couch, looked dazed. Both of them grabbed a pillow and casually placed them over their crotches as Kitty Forman came downstairs, the heels of her shoes tap-tap-tapping against the wooden steps. 

"Oh, honey, there you are!" Kitty said, laughing. Her face was flushed from drinking. Eric shot a nervous glance at Buddy, who seemed to be thinking along the same lines; should they be more afraid of the fact that the basement smelled like weed or because they were obviously hiding boners?

"Mom - are - are you drunk?" Eric said quickly, changing the subject.

Kitty seemed offended at the suggestion. "Drunk?" She snapped, but she broke into a grin and laughed. "Oh, Eric, who's your friend?" She added, taking notice of Buddy.

"I'm Buddy Morgan -"

"Kitty!" Red shouted from upstairs. "It's our turn!"

"Oh!" Kitty gasped. She gave the boys an apologetic look. "If you're hungry, there's frozen pizzas in the icebox, and - _one second, Red_ \- there's sodas, so you can help yourselves!" She ran back upstairs. Once the coast was clear, Eric and Buddy looked at each other. The moment was over. 

"I'm sorry," Eric said eventually.

"You don't have to be sorry," Buddy assured him. He rose to his feet. "I know you love Donna."

"Yeah, but I -"

Buddy shook his head, chuckling. "You're not gay. Trust me, I can tell. There doesn't have to be rules when it comes to liking someone."

Eric remained planted on the couch, partly to hide his boner, and partly because he did not have the strength to follow Buddy out. If he followed him, he would be sealing the deal. They would not be friends, but boys who drove around in a red sports car, got high in the basement, and made out when nobody was looking. Eric looked at Buddy, who merely nodded in understanding. 

"You don't have to be sorry."

Eric nodded. "Thanks, Buddy. Could you - you know - not tell anyone?"

"I didn't plan on it. By the way, you're a really good kisser," Buddy added. He gave one last smile and left, leaving Eric alone in the basement, high as a kite, and feeling like the biggest loser in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> My all-time favourite episode!  
> Turns out that coming-of-age during the 1970s in Wisconsin is pretty much the same as coming-of-age during the 2020s in small-town Canada (where I am currently coming-of-age). Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed :)


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